


your hands (together)

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Series: Four-Color Love (A Comic Book Romance) [16]
Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dracoaries asked: Stuart does mehendi on Raj’s hands (this is mostly done on women in India, but I doubt Raj cares, and Stuart loves art, so~… Also, it’d be cute!).</p>
            </blockquote>





	your hands (together)

“Hold  _still_.” Stuart swats Raj lightly with the wooden end of the fine paint brush he’s holding.

“It tickles.”

“You’re just too sensitive, you know that?” Stuart draws another thin curve across Raj’s palm and Raj shivers.

“You do know that this is supposed to be more of a bridal tradition than for guys, right?”

“I know. You were the one who left me the Wikipedia article.”

“Mmmm.”

“And the links to your favorite designs.”

“Guilty.” Raj gives him a not at all guilty look from underneath lowered eyelashes and Stuart has to put the brush down and kiss him. Raj tries to lift his hand to catch at the back of Stuart’s head and Stuart grabs his wrist and pushes it back down.

“Not while the henna might smudge.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Sure,” Stuart agrees readily, picking the brush back up. “I’m no fun. You hate everything I do to you, and you can’t wait to find someone better.”

“Don’t go too far, dude. You already put three bucks in the self-deprecation jar this morning.”

“Speaking of which, you owe the stupid synonyms for sex jar a few from last night,” Stuart counters, concentrating on the outline of the stylized sun he’s sketching out in the middle of Raj’s palm.

Raj groans. “I’m starting to think maybe the jars were a bad idea.”

“You were the one who thought of it. Stop moving or I’m going to tie you to the chair.”

“Maybe I’ve watched too much  _New Girl_.”

Stuart finishes the sun part of the design and pauses to stretch his aching hand. Raj takes his hand with his as yet unmarked hand and starts massaging it, and Stuart closes his eyes, enjoying the way his muscles relax under Raj’s expert touch. Raj runs his thumb shiver-light across Stuart’s palm and Stuart twitches; it  _does_  tickle.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to pick the brush back up.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Not really.”

Raj does stop though after a little while longer and Stuart goes back to making the intricate design on his hand blossom out. Several many-petaled flowers slowly join the sun. Stuart has to pause again at one point to put  _The Hobbit_  on so Raj will watch it and not wriggle so much. If anything, it probably makes him worse as he reacts to the movie, but Stuart learns to deal with it, poking Raj occasionally with the end of the brush. Raj starts to retaliate by giving him a wounded puppy look each time, which doesn’t do a lot for the progression of the artwork.

 

“Stuart?”

“Hmmm?” Stuart’s onto Raj’s right hand now, complementing the left hand design with a moon and stars pattern.

“Can you believe this is really happening?”

Stuart leans back into the comforting embrace of the couch for a minute while he processes the question. “You mean me painting your hands?”

“I mean our whole relationship.” Raj’s voice is small and uncertain.

“Um. It’s not exactly where I thought I’d be a year ago.”

“Where did you think you’d be?”

Stuart thinks back and finally shrugs. “Probably still sleeping in the back room of the store… I don’t know. I don’t think I was thinking that far ahead.”

Raj’s lips brush against his, light as a cirrus cloud. “And now? Where do you see yourself a year from now?”

“With you, I hope.” The words come out so fast that Stuart wishes he could take them back, if only to say them with a little more composure.

Raj just smiles. Smiles and, heedless of the henna, lifts his hand to cup Stuart’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. Stuart can’t bring himself to make Raj let go, even though he’s worked for ages on the design currently smudging against his skin.

“If this were our wedding night, you’d be yelling at me for ruining your work,” Raj says a little too casually.

“I wouldn’t  _yell_  – wait, what?”

“You said it yourself,  _mehndi_ ’s traditionally a bridal thing.” Raj gives him another of those not-guilty looks, and God his eyelashes are so dark he looks like he’s wearing mascara, which is unfair because he’s too damn pretty even at a glance, let alone up close like this. “So if this were—”

“You,” Stuart says, “are unbelievable.” And kisses him, dipping his own eyelashes most of the way shut, but not all the way, so he can peek at the way Raj looks suddenly vulnerable with his own eyes closed tight.

“You think I’d look good in white?” Raj teases as soon as his mouth is unoccupied.

“Is that a half-assed proposal, or am I overthinking what you’re saying?”

Raj slips off the couch to one knee and takes Stuart’s hands in his, ignoring the way Stuart’s now laughing nervously. “We’ve been together a year. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Raj, you’re getting henna  _everywhere_ —”

“And it’s legal now.”

“Raj—”

“You can be the bride if you want,” Raj offers.

“I don’t think either of us is cut out for bridehood.”

A shadow crosses Raj’s face. “Are you saying no?”

Stuart’s grip reflexively tightens on Raj’s hands. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Are you saying yes, then?”

“…”

“Stuart?”

“Just promise me you’ll sit still and not smear your hands next time I do this,” Stuart says, turning Raj’s hands palm up. The designs are still visible through the smudges.

A smile breaks through the shadow. “Are you serious?”

“Are  _you_?”

“Yes, I… yes.”

 

Stuart goes to work the next day with a henna smear on his cheek that will not come off, like a five o’clock shadow with a grudge. He catches people looking at it curiously – it does sort of look a little like dried blood – and thanks whatever deities are listening that they can’t see any of the other henna marks Raj left on him.


End file.
